


Call and Answer

by SongbirdAli, Writer75



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Developing Friendships, Drama & Romance, Drinking to Cope, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Love at First Sight, Memories, Pre-Supernatural (TV), Pre-pilot, Reader Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Smut, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15288630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongbirdAli/pseuds/SongbirdAli, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer75/pseuds/Writer75
Summary: One of John's hunting buddies has died and the boys are heading to his funeral.  Sam and Cas struggle to find out what exactly has Dean so on edge.  Could it be the memory of the hunter's daughter and the relentless grip she has on his heart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *flasbacks are in italics*
> 
> Inspired by the song, "Call and Answer" by Barenaked Ladies

“Who’s Y/N?”  
Dean Winchester looked up at the sound of Castiel’s voice.  
“What?”  
“Who’s Y/N?” Castiel asked again, pointing at the legal pad Dean was writing on, retracing the name over and over again with his pencil.  
Dean tapped the eraser on the paper before tossing it down. “No one. You ready?”  
“Yes. We have never gone to a hunter’s funeral before, Dean, why this one?”  
  
Crumpling up the paper in front of him into a ball, Dean tossed it towards the basket, ricocheting it off the edge.  
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve become sentimental in my old age.”  
“And a bad shot too.” Sam added, entering the room with his duffle bag and backpack, picking up Dean’s scrap paper.  
Sam unfolded the paper, “Dean. Come on man, don’t do this to yourself. ”  
“I thought you said she was no one.” Castiel interjected.  
“Can we just go?” Dean demanded.  
“She’s not no one.” Sam whispered to himself.  
“Sammy!” Dean yelled, stopping Sam in his tracks.  
  
Sam nodded to his brother, ending the conversation as they grabbed their gear and headed out to the Impala for the trip to Cuba, Missouri.  
  
Terrance Holloway was a friend of Bobby’s and of their father who, like them, lost his wife to a demon. Raising his four kids took a village, like the old adage goes. Hunters would stop by from time to time to check in on him and his young children, including the Winchesters. Now, as Dean found himself headed there to say goodbye to him, his mind flipped to some of the final memories he had of seeing him, and his eldest daughter, Y/N…  
  
_Dean was young, cocky, and turning 23 years old that day. John Winchester took his son for a drink at Hollow’s Pub, a real hole in the wall that Terrance had opened to help pay for and care for his children. Its main clientele were hunters, and some very lost tourists occasionally. That night the place was packed to celebrate the eldest Winchester boy. John was a favorite in the area, a celebrity of sorts if you will... making his son one too._  
  
_The cloud of smoke, and old rock and roll music filled the room as Dean made his way to the bar. Standing next to his father, he ordered a whisky and a beer from Terrance himself._  
  
_“Happy Birthday son.” Terrance greeted him, swatting him on top his shoulder with his big hand before calling back, “Need a whisky and a beer, nothing but the best!”_  
_“You got it!” the bar keep called back, wiping out a glass with a towel before grabbing a bottle of whisky kept under the counter. Dean looked up and saw her, Y/N, Terrance’s eldest daughter, as she set the glass down in front of him, filling the glass with a double._  
  
_“Happy Birthday.” she shouted, as the noise in the bar grew louder with arrival of more hunters_  
_“Thank you.” he said, picking up the glass and tilting iit towards her obligingly with a smile._  
  
_But those words, that smile was all he could manifest. He gulped, visibly, as he looked into her beautiful eyes, before his eyes began to drift down along every one of her soft curves. It had been years since he had seen her, since they were kids. She didn’t look like that…_  
  
“Dean! Dean!” Sam’s voice boomed through his head. “Where’d you go?”  
“Nowhere, I was just thinking whether I should take the turnpike or the back roads.” Dean said, clearing his voice along with his mind. “You guys want to make a pit stop?”  
  
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back at Cass, who shrugged at the idea.  
“Dean. You never want to make pit stops.” Sam scoffed.  
“Do you want to or not Sammy?” Dean barked frustratingly.  
“Fine let’s stop.”  
  
As the Impala made its way into the closest Gas N’ Sip, Dean hopped out, slamming the door.  
“You want anything?” Sam asked before heading inside.  
“Yeah. Whatever they got, something with caffeine too.” Dean added.  
  
Leaning against his car, after starting the gas pump, he dragged the entire length of his hands down his face as he began to drift again…  
  
_Dean’s usual go-to flirtations were off kilter, he was stuttering and stammering like a school boy...if she would have had pigtails, he would have pulled them by now. He listened to her, he smiled, laughed at her stupid bartender jokes, and didn’t once try one of the million pickup lines he knew she probably heard nightly. As she carried out the cake from the kitchen, sparkling with candles, the party goers began to sing to him, slurring each word with an off key note._  
  
_The glow of the candles lit up her face before as she held the cake up,_  
_“Make a wish Dean.”_  
_He could only think of one._  
  
_The drinks continued to pour. Dean’s tolerance was high, even at such a young age, but the amounts being offered were even higher. Sitting at that bar with his dad that night was something he knew he would always remember. Growing old was never something hunters expected to do. No retirement, just certain death. Not sure when, or how, but they all knew it, and celebrated each year “topside” with the spirits they could drink, and stories they could share._  
  
_Dean noticed his dad slipping off his bar stool, and ran his arm under his to steady him._  
_John laughed, putting the crook of his arm around Dean’s neck, bringing him in for a kiss on the temple. He was drunk. Dean, with the assistance of Mr. Holloway, walked John upstairs to an empty bedroom and laid him down on a prepared cot. Looking up at his son, as Dean covered him with a thin blanket, John smiled._  
_“Happy Birthday son.”_  
_“Thanks Dad.”_  
_John grabbed his hand for a moment before he passed out._  
  
_Making his way back downstairs, he walked into the bar, noticing its trampled state. Picking up some glasses off a table, he made his way to the bar when Holloway tried to stop him._  
_“Son, that isn’t your job.”_  
_“I don’t mind, sir. Actually I want to.”_  
_Holloway smiled, letting him pass to place them on the bar._  
_“Well, I am sure Y/N won’t mind the help either.”_  
_Y/N shook her head no, smiling at her father and Dean. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walked over to her father,_  
_“Daddy why don’t you go to bed, I got this. Besides, you seem to have found me some help.” nodding at Dean._  
_“You sure baby?”_  
_“Of course. Love you. Get some sleep.”_  
_Holloway turned to Dean and shook his hand with a warm smile._  
_“Good night sir.” Dean said._  
_“Happy Birthday Dean. You’ve grown up to be a good man. Your father’s very proud of you.”_  
_Holloway gave him a pat on the back before heading up the stairs._  
  
_“Best birthday ever, right?” she asked with a bit of sarcasm. “You know, minus the manual labor?”_  
_Dean huffed, smiling as he grabbed the broom._  
_Y/N poured herself a double whisky before hopping up to sit cross-legged on the bar, watching him sweep up the day’s mess._  
_“So. Where is that brother of yours? Just seems kinda odd he is not here for your big day...I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you both, but you always seemed…close.” She said, taking a sip of her whisky._  
  
_His eyes tensed, along with his jaw._  
_“Sammy. Yeah. He um, it wasn’t the life for him. He wasn’t happy. Whining all the time. Wanted to go to Stanford, become a lawyer of all things…but, um, he seems happy.” He mumbled._  
_“Wow. That’s great. Good for him.”_  
_“I guess.”_  
_“So what about you Dean?”_  
_“What about me?”_  
_“Does this make YOU happy?”_  
_Dean turned back to face her, “You mean sweeping?”_  
_Y/N coughed, swallowing back the whisky she had just sipped. Dean couldn’t help but smile,._  
_“You ok?”_  
_Y/N nodded, eyes watering and embarrassed._  
_Clearing her throat one more time, she finally responded,_  
_“No. Being a hunter. I’m trying to be serious here. Is this what you...wanted...”_  
  
_Dean leaned the broom against a table and approached her, still perched on the bar. Grabbing the bottle off the counter, he filled her glass again and took a long sip from it before refilling it._  
  
_“Does it matter?” he finally answered, looking up into her eyes._  
_‘It should. And it does. You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to...you do have a choice you know.”_  
_She noticed his eyes tense once again, but this time it was different, as if they were stained with imprisoned tears._  
_“Well I am. It’s all I know.” he said with a hiss, taking the shot of whisky before walking away, picking up the broom again._  
  
_Dean suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder. Swallowing back the emotions he didn’t want shared, he turned to her, his face hardened. She inched closer to him, looking up into those olive green eyes, her body brushing ever so lightly against his._  
_“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” she said_  
_.She wrapped her arms around him, lifting herself up on her toes, making it impossible for him to see anything else but her._  
  
_“Y/N...stop. We can’t. Your dad…he…”_  
  
_Steadying herself against his chest, she leaned in even closer, and closed her eyes._  
_“Dean...” She whispered._


	2. Chapter 2

 

> HONK! HONK! HONK! Dean jumped, as gasoline poured over his boots, overflowing from the Impala’s tank.  
>  “Shit!” he yelled, removing the gas handle and placing it back on the hook.  
>  He wiped his boots with the window paper towels by the pump, grumbling to himself.. Sam and Castiel returned, snacks in hand, to a mess.  
>    
>  “What happened?” Castiel questioned  
>  “I don’t know!!” Dean barked. “Must have been an air bubble in the system!”  
>    
>  Sam looked up at the gas pump and noticed the amount that had been pumped was well above what the car even took.  
>  “Go clean up, I got this.” Sam told him wiping off the excess gas dripping off the car.  
>  As Dean grumbled and stomped off to the bathroom, Sam shook his head and looked at Castiel.  
>    
>  After returning from the facilities, he kicked off his boots, placing them in an old plastic bag in the trunk.  
>  “Keys.” Sam ordered, holding his hand out.  
>  “I’m fine. It was an accident.” he exclaimed.  
>  “No you’re not Dean. Ever since, hell, even before we decided to go to this funeral, you have been...all over the place. I know this is hard for you, so let me help. Please.” he offered, holding his hand out once again.  
>    
>  Dean sighed, unwilling to fight anymore, and dropped the keys into Sam’s waiting palm.  
>    
>  Climbing back into the Impala, Dean balled up his jacket and shoved it against the seatbelt. With a groan he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Mentally and physically, he was exhausted. He fell into a deep sleep but it felt like it had only been moments before Sam was waking him again.  
>    
>  “Dude! Wake up. You’re drooling on your jacket.”  
>  Dean jumped up, wiping his face, before realizing his brother was just messing with him.  
>  “Asshole. Where are we?”  
>  “We’re in Cuba. Thought we would get something to eat before we got a room for the night.”  
>  He pulled on his wrinkled jacket and looked over the bench seating.  
>  “Where’s Cas?”  
>  “Inside already, getting us a table.”  
>  Dean scratched his hands through his hair, trying to shake off the exhaustion.  
>  “Seriously. Are you ok man? You can talk to me...” Sam inquired gently.  
>  “I’m hungry, let’s eat.” Dean snipped before opening the door and getting out of the car.  
>    
>  After a mostly silent, awkward meal, they made their way to the motel. They hung up their suits for the funeral in the dusty closet, and dropped their bags on the floor before Dean headed towards the door.  
>  “I’ll be back.”  
>  “Wait. Where are you going?” Sam asked.  
>  “Out.”  
>  “Let me come with you.”  
>  “No. Stay here with Cas. He gets lonely. Just need to do something.”  
>  “Dean!”

He headed for the Impala and didn’t look back. He needed to get out of there, being around people was making him nuts. The last thing he needed was their concerned looks and questions all night. Climbing in, he slammed the door and drove off as the sun began to set.

_Dean pulled away and continued to clean up as promised, desperate to focus on anything but her and his hardening cock. How does anyone make washing a glass look like pure sex. He was gone. Fully gone, and he knew it. Grabbing a clean towel off the bar, he headed to the supply room in the back for more cleaning supplies._

_When he returned, she was wearing nothing but the flannel he’d draped over the back of a chair earlier in the evening. Leaning back against the bar, she had left it unbuttoned just far enough to see the curve of her breasts peeking through the opening._

_It took him all of a second to get across the floor and pressed up against her. With both hands he jerked the shirt open as buttons flew. His rough hands slid up her body to cup her breasts as his hungry lips made their way up her neck._

_Her fingers worked quickly to undo his belt and pants so she could free his cock. Dean was more than ready. Spinning her around to face the bar, his hands grabbed firmly on to her hips as he growled against her ear._

_“I was trying to be a gentleman but you had to go and put on my shirt.”_  
_“Maybe you should shut up and show me what you got, Winchester.”_  
_She knew exactly what she was doing and he was more than willing to comply._

 _Dean slid his fingers between her wet lips and lazily circled her swollen nub with a smirk._  
_“Oh, I’ll show you.”_

Dean slammed on the brakes as a deer sprang out from the tree line. He barely missed it but the pounding of his heart brought him quickly back to reality. He really shouldn’t drive when he’s like this. It was time to head back.

When he got back to the hotel, Cas was gone, and Sam was flipping through television channels with virtually no reception.

“You’re back! Cas is out looking for you..”  
Without a word, Dean dialed Cas’ number.  
“Hello Dean.”  
“Cas, where the hell are you?”  
“Out looking for you. You shouldn’t be driving when you’re so distraught.”  
“I’m not distraught.” Dean argued.  
“Yes you are, Dean.”  
“Whatever,  just get back here.” Dean groaned and hung up. Cas’ intuition was not what he needed right now.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or do you seriously not trust me.” Sam said with a look hurt across his face.

“I can’t Sam. I need you to trust me. And sleep, I need decent sleep.” Kicking off his shoes and undressing took all the strength he had left. He crawled between the sheets of his bed and rolled away from Sam. Punching the pillow he settled in and was asleep before Cas came back.

“How is Dean?” Cas asked, casting a worried glance at his sleeping form.  
“I don’t know. He still won’t talk to me. I hate not knowing what’s going on in his head.”  
“I could…” Cas raised an eyebrow and motioned between he and Dean.  
“No. It’s not right to invade his thoughts like that.” Sam said. “We better settle in for the night. Something tells me tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

 _“DEAN! GOD DAMMIT! ” John bellowed as he slammed the car door._  
_“Dad...”_  
_“What the hell is the matter with you? You could have got me killed me back there!”_  
_“I’m sorry! I don’t know, I didn’t…”_  
_“Damn right you didn’t! You should have never missed that. I taught you better than that. YOU’RE DISTRACTED.” John slammed his hands on the wheel of the Impala._

 _After a few minutes, John pulled over at a gas station. He gave Dean a long, weary look before grabbing supplies to clean up from his duffel and heading to the restroom._  
_“Get us something to eat will ya.” he called back to his son._  
_Dean nodded. But once his dad was out of sight, he headed over to the phone booth near the road. Anxiously reaching into his pocket for change, his hands shook as he dialed the number._  
_“Hello?”_  
_“Hey, it’s me.”_  
_“Dean? Are you ok? You sound…”_  
_“I’m fine. I just needed to hear your voice.”_  
_“Well here is my voice.I miss you.”_  
_Dean leaned against the phone booth, his forehead pressed against the glass as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I miss you too..god I miss you so much. These weeks apart...they’re killing me.”_  
_“Are you sure you are ok?” she inquired once again._  
_“I’m fine. No,I’m not fine. Are you sure you still want to be with me? Have a... life with me? I mean, I am pretty screwed up Y/N.”_  
_“Dean. I think about it every minute, of everyday. I’m ready when you are. Suitcase is by the door.”_  
_Dean looked up to his his father exit the restroom._  
_“Y/N. I gotta go.”_  
_“Dean. Wait!”_  
_“What?”_  
_“I love you.”_  
_Dean paused, his heart pounding, when he noticed his father only inches away from the dilapidated phone booth._  
_“Me too. Talk to you soon Bobby.” Dean added, before hanging up ._  
_“Bobby?” John asked through squinted eyes._  
_“Yeah. I wanted to see if he had heard from Sammy.”_  
_His father looked him up and down. “Did you get the food?”_  
_Dean shook his head no._  
_“Distracted.” John barked, pointing his finger at him, before heading toward the store._  
_This should have been the happiest moment of his life. The women he loved just said she loved him, and instead...his anger grew and grew, as he began pounding his fist over and over against the plexiglass over and over for relief…._

“Hey. Dean.” Sam shook his brother gently as Cas opened the drapes letting in the sunlight. Dean stretched and yawned. His back was killing him. It was as if every muscle was knotted.

“I’m up! I’m up.” He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes before pawing around the bed for his shirt.

“We’re going to get some breakfast. You in?” Sam inquired with a hopeful tone. Dean knew his brother meant well, but the thought of food made his stomach turn.

“Nah, you two go ahead. I’ll shower and get myself fully awake before you get back.” There was that look on Cas’ face again. He knew he never missed an opportunity to eat but he just couldn’t do it today.

Sam and Cas’ left as Dean made his way to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror wondering how he was going to get himself together so he could face this funeral.

He turned on the shower and mixed the water temps until they were just slightly hotter than he liked. He needed to feel the scald today. He stepped in and shut the shower door behind him, letting the water pound into his back muscles and wake up his senses.  
He scrubbed almost angrily at his scalp, willing these memories to leave. It was no use. He was just going to have to let them come until this was over.

 _“What are you looking at?” she asked draping herself over his shoulder as they lay together, spent. His fingers moved softly down along her spine._  
_“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, before chastly kissing her lips._  
_“You’re crazy, but I love you Dean Winchester.” she mewed with a yawn._  
_Laying there, naked in each other’s arms, Dean felt peace. He was not running from, or chasing anyone or anything. All he needed was right here. It had been weeks since they were together like this. Each night since, they talked on the phone, sometimes for hours, others times for just moments. He had even sent her a postcard from just a few towns over, which she she still had laying on her bedside table. Dean smiled as he heard the sounds of her peaceful slumber vibrate like a kitten’s purr from her chest. Wrapping his arms around her a little tighter, he kissed her the top of her head and inhaled the scent of her shampoo, trying to commit it to memory._  
_“I love you more.”_


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean, we’re back! You in there?!” Sam bellowed while rapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.  
“What do you WANT?” Dean snapped. He didn’t mean to, and Sam didn’t deserve it, but he couldn’t stop himself.  
“Just get out here, we brought you some pie. Jerk.” Sam hollered through the door.

Dean walked out of the bathroom moments later, staring down his brother before pulling clean clothes out of his bag. Cas set a piece of pecan pie and a coffee on his bedside table and gave him a wide berth. Dean smiled weakly at him, propped himself back up in bed, and ate.

“The pie was Cas’ idea. I was going to let you starve.” Sam quipped. He was obviously pissed but Dean just didn’t have the strength to fight with him.

“Thanks Cas.”  
“You’re welcome Dean.”

Dean listened to the sounds of cars driving by while he munched quietly. Sam busied himself on the internet scrounging for cases out of boredom and frustration. They had a few hours to kill before the funeral. Dean sipped gingerly at his coffee as the continued barrage of memories filled his exhausted mind…

_“Where were you?”_  
_“Jesus Dad! You scared the hell out of me!” Dean hissed in the doorway of the hotel room.”I couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk.”_  
_John turned on the lamp on the bedside table. He nodded, inspecting Dean’s disheveled appearance._  
_“Went for a walk. Hmmm. Carrying your boots along with my keys to my car.” he said smugly._

_There was nothing he could say at that point. His father had his number and he knew it. Tossing down the boots next to the bed, Dean sat down,his back to his father, wondering if he should tell him the truth, tell him about her, how he felt…_

_“Who’s the girl?” John asked, his voice a bit more tender in tone._  
_He swallowed, clearing his throat, before he spoke, “It’s Y/N Holloway.”_  
_Dean felt as if the oxygen was sucked from the room at that very moment, he turned to gauge his father’s reaction, searching his face for his tells: anger, disappointment, approval. Anything really._  
_John looked at his son, and simply nodded, “Well I am sure Tom won’t be thrilled, but hope you enjoyed yourself...cause we got work to do.”_  
_Dean’s face grimaced, “It’s not like that dad. It’s not like that with her.”_  
_“It’s not like what Dean?”_  
_“I didn't just...we didn’t just…”_  
_“Son spit it out. What are we talking about here? You’ve been distracted, sneaking in and out, in the middle of the night, half dressed, it’s fine, you are 23 years old, I don’t expect you live like a priest …”_  
_“Look, Dad” Dean paused, searching for words. “ I love her.”_  
_“Oh, wow. Ok, I didn’t see that coming.”_  
_“Dad, I need to be with her. I can’t keep running all the time when all I want to do is be near her.” His words tumbled out in a rush and he immediately regretted them._  
_John sat frozen, staring intensely at him. He sighed, rubbing his hands together before running them over his face._  
_“Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”_  
_“Then you should go.”_  
_“Dad…”_  
_“You want to go? Go Dean. I’m not keeping you here.”_  
_“We still have a job to do.” Dean corrected him_  
_John shook his head in disagreement, “Here’s the deal. I am going to go, follow this lead I got on the demon. You are going to figure out what you want while I’m gone. You love her? You want to be with her? Then you need decide what kind of future you want with her.”_  
_“Dad I am not going to let you go by yourself!”_  
_“Dean, I don’t want you with me! Do you understand? You need to get your head straight first, you are a danger to me and yourself if you aren’t focused out there. So take this time. And when I get back, we’ll talk.”_  
_Dean drug his fingers through his hair in frustration._  
_John picked up the hotel phone and dialed._  
_“Yeah. Bobby. Can you pick me up in my truck? No. No. Dean is staying. I am leaving him my car. You can give me a hand with this, right? Ok. See you soon.”_  
  
A phone ringing on the television pulled Dean back into reality. Cas was flipping channels without paying much attention to what was even on.  
“You still wanna do this, right?” Sam knew the answer but with the way Dean had been acting he wasn’t sure if he’d changed his mind.  
“Yeah, I better get ready.” Dean tossed his trash and went to get his suit out of the closet. He brushed some dust off of the shoulder and tried not to think about how rough this was going to be.

_“Come on, come on, come on…pick up.” Dean anxiously whispered._  
_“Holloway’s bar…”_  
_“Y/N It’s me.”_  
_“Dean. What’s the matter?”_  
_“Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all actually, opposite really…” he said letting out a bit of child like giggle._  
_“What is it?”_  
_“Y/N, I’m free. I told him, and he left, and I....I’m free.”_  
_“Dean, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”_  
_“Give me a week to finish up a job I promised a friend I would check in on. After that Y/N...it’s just me and you.” Dean could hear her sniffle on the other end. Resting his head on his hand, he rubbed his eyes. “Y/N? You still there?” more sniffles, “Are you nodding?”_  
_“I love you, baby.” she whispered_  
_Dean couldn’t contain his smile. “I love you too Y/N.”_

“Dean? You ready?”  
Dean looked up at his brother, giving him an uncertain nod. Sam didn’t even ask, he just took the keys and ushered everybody into the car. Dean climbed into the back which drew a look from Cas. He ran his fingers over the seat and stared out the window. He was more than ready to get this over with but he needed to face these people. Not showing up was like an admission of guilt.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam pulled into the gravel pit that doubled as a parking lot for the bar. Dean’s mouth went dry and his heart pounded so hard he could hear it. He hadn’t been back here since the night with Y/N. Dean climbed out with his heart in his throat. Taking a moment for a breath, he buttoned his jacket, and strode to the door . Better to look confident than feel it.

When he pulled open the door, he was met with an all too familiar scene. The bar was crowded with hunters and his father’s buddies. A murmur broke out over the room when he stepped over the threshold. He definitely didn’t feel welcome, not to mention the fact that they were the only ones in suits.  
Sam grabbed his shoulder and muttered, “They don’t look very happy to see us. What exactly happened between you and Y/N, Dean?”

Dean shrugged Sam’s hand from his shoulder, “I’m going for a drink, you want anything?” Sam nodded and he headed for the bar. The young man standing behind it looked familiar, but Dean was struggling to place him.

“Dean Winchester, I’m surprised to see you.” He said with a smirk. He wasn’t unfriendly, just unsure.  
It was the eyes. There was something familiar about his eyes.  
“Have we met?”  
“When we were kids. Well, I was pretty young, but I remember you, you and my sister were close. You probably don’t remember me. I’m Ryan. Y/N’s brother.”  
“I’m gonna need a drink.” Dean stumbled onto the bar stool, just shy of falling on his ass. He vaguely remembered him, running around during cookouts at Terrance’s house when they were kids but those memories were pretty damn foggy.  
Ryan glugged a heavy handed double of whiskey into a glass and pushed it to him before making one for himself.  
“I take it I shocked you. I apologize. It has been a long time. What I remember of you is just from stories I heard from Dad. He really liked you, always talking about you and your dad like you were hunting gods.”  
That was not what Dean was expecting to hear.  
“Really? I just assumed...I mean, I thought he hated me, blamed me for...” He stammered, unable to even look Ryan in the eyes.  
“For what? You mean Y/N’s death? Absolutely not. He knew she had her own mind. She’d been crazy about you since she was a kid, there wasn’t going to be any keeping her away from you, or the life you lived.”  
Sam walked up behind Dean and extended a hand,  
“Hey, Sam Winchester.”  
Ryan introduced himself before exchanging pleasantries with the younger Winchester. Sam excused himself. Dean moved to the other side of the bar to a table Cas had found that was a bit hidden from the rest. Dean collapsed into the rickety wooden chair, his mind swimming, all the pain and heartache was floating to the surface. Tears welled in Dean’s eyes, and this time he was helpless to stop them.  
“Dean…” Cas growled.  
“I shouldn’t have come.” Dean mumbled.  
Cas dropped a hand onto his forearm, as he gently coaxed his friend to tell him everything.

_Dean had just returned from his last job. He was late, and needed to get his stuff together and pick up Y/N but something wasn’t resting easy. He hadn’t heard from his dad. He’d called and called with no answer, even Bobby thought it was a bit strange, considering he and John had finished up that last job several days ago. Dammit. Dean knew he didn’t have a choice. No matter how mad he was with his father, something was not right. With Bobby unavailable on another hunt, Dean could only reach out to one other person. Opening his flip phone, he scrolled down til it highlighted a name, a person he had not spoken to in months when his phone suddenly began to ring. It was Y/N._

_“Dean?” Her voice was sweet and silky. It was going to gut him to disappoint her._   
_“Hey baby, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news” He cringed when he said it._   
_“Uh oh. Don’t tell me you’ve found someone else?” she jested._   
_“No, no, nothing like that, it’s just…”_   
_“You’re not coming are you.” Her tone barely hiding the tinge of frustration she was feeling._   
_“It’s just a few more days sweetheart. My dad, he’s not returning my calls and I’m just thinking something’s happened. I’m gonna call Sam and…”_   
_“Dean, just stop. I don't want to hear it. You know he is doing this on purpose right? You are finally free of his grip, and then here you are, running right back in to it._   
_“Y/N…”_   
_“No. I love you Dean, I really do, but I’m sorry, I’m done waiting. You made a choice, and so did I. You either come now, or...”_   
_“Y/N...please…”_   
_“Goodbye Dean.”_   
_The dead air on the phone cut into him like a knife. He didn’t want to lose but he needed to know his dad was ok. He got into the car and slammed the door. Opening his phone once again, he dialed his brother. No answer. Didn’t matter. He had to get to Sammy. Now._

  
“She was dead before I got to Sam’s. After what happened to Jess, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. Mr. Holloway called me and asked me to meet him at her place a couple days after it happened. Apparently, the bastards who did this left a message for me.” Dean coughed to cover a sob.  
Cas’ brow furrowed with worry, “What did it say?”

The door to her apartment was criss-crossed with police tape. Dean ripped the tape aside and opened the door to the horror inside.

Scrawled on the wall in what looked to be blood were the words “Come to me, Dean”. Dean’s heart stopped. He fell to his knees and yelled his anguish into the air. There was no coming back from this. He had never known such pain, not since his mother’s death.

When the pain finally burned into an angry stone in his gut, he got to his feet and turned toward the door. His eye caught on a familiar postcard perched on top of her bags by the door. It was worn a bit from where she’d held it close and lipstick stains marked it from where she’d kissed over his handwriting. He held it to his face and wept again.

Unbenounced to Dean, Sam had been standing behind him the entire time he spoke. Reaching out, he squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

“Dean, you should have told me. You didn’t have to do this alone.”  
“I wasn’t alone...I had you.” Dean uttered with a solemn smile.

Dean brushed away the rest of his tears and knocked back his whiskey. “Alright, that’s enough of a trip down memory lane. We’ve paid our respects. Let’s get out of here.”

“Dean.” Sam’s face showed his growing concern.

“I’m good Sam, let’s go.” Cas stood and headed for the door. Sam gave him a long look and finally turned to leave as well. Dean opened his wallet and ran a finger along the worn postcard folded inside. He pulled out a few bills for a tip and nodded to Ryan before laying it on the bar. Allowing his gaze to linger a bit on the long stretch of wood where they shared such passion, in the place where he had fallen in love for the very first time, he pushed the lump in his throat back down where it belonged. At least he knew Terrence didn’t blame him for Y/Ns death, now he only needed forgiveness from himself.


End file.
